


Snotters who were off their chump

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: He misses something, M/M, john is BAMF, sherlock deduces john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: Sherlock deduces John. Of course he misses something. John is BAMF. Sherlock is thrilled with his BAMFness. And everything comes out in the bedroom after the bath. Enjoy.





	Snotters who were off their chump

**Author's Note:**

> This story has not been Britpicked. I googled the British verbage. So if I've boo-boo'd let me know. Happy reading and comments and kudos are always appreciated. It doesn't take much to hit that kudo button. Go ahead. Be brave, be bold and give me a twirl.

John walks into the doorway of the sitting room. Sherlock, sitting at his computer, gives him a quick glance, then immediately stops what he is doing. Standing, he walks over to John and takes hold of his wrists. Scanning John in great detail, there is a touch of anxiety in his face. Then he takes a deep exhalation of relief.

A cheerful smile threatens to erupt on John’s face. “I’m fine.” 

“Of course you are fine and appropriately delayed.” Sherlock is still holding John’s wrists.

“You were attacked by three young thugs as you were leaving from your pub night with Lestrade. You should have let him give you a ride home as he suggested. The cheap beer combined with the smell of other intoxicants which were transferred to your clothing makes that obvious.”

“Obvious.” John acknowledges.

“One of the snotter's attacked you from behind, which was his first mistake. The multiple tiny tears on the collar of your shirt indicates that you flipped the imbecile over your good shoulder. Knowing how strong you actually are, I anticipate that you cracked his coccyx. Thus rendering him no longer a threat. 

“Very close, I broke his pelvis in two places.”

“The remaining two very redundant rectums, feeling outraged at their fellow arse holes removal from their gang romp, came forward to get their comeuppance. You promptly kicked the closest thug in his genitalia as evidenced by the zipper marks on the surface of your right shoe.”

“Then, as the solitary bastard reminded himself he was in for some one on one time with a man who had put down two of his stray dog companions, he turned to flee. You grabbed him by the scruff of his grubby collar, smashing him down hard on the pavement. Whereupon he either bit his own tongue or broke his nose. The blood spray pattern of droplets on your left sleeve and left shoe indicate you examined him and then used your foot and body weight to hold him down as you called for the constabulary. Only to find that several of the patrons of the pub had done this for you. The blood spatter was minimal.”

“Your assailants are currently in A and E, soon to be incarcerated for their night’s follies.”

Finally, letting go of John’s wrists, Sherlock steps back. “How’d I do?”

“Pretty damn close.” John gives a heart warming smile that lights up Sherlock’s world and lets him see that there is a piece of the puzzle he didn’t get.

“What did I miss?”

“I have to say I over reacted. I should have been a bit more circumspect. They taunted me. ‘Tiny grand dad. Little old shite.’ I did turn toward them as they surrounded me.”

“I dare say they will be keeping their mouths shut going forward. Definitely walking away quickly from anyone of your bearing in the future.”

“I think we can safely say that.” John chuckled a bit as Sherlock took his hand to lead him toward the loo. “Are we going to take a shower?”

Divesting John of his jacket and tugging his shoes off, Sherlock is gentle in his disrobing of John. “I’m not able to determine exactly what took place between you and the ginger woman, but I think we can discuss that in a leisurely bath.”

“It was a ginger bloke.” John corrected. 

“Then we definitely need to discuss it at length.” Sherlock begins to tug at the hem of John’s jumper.

John takes a deep breath. “It started out rather innocently enough.”

“Where have I heard that before?” Sherlock’s wicked smile shows he’s eager to hear the full-length tale.

“This was before the snotters made their play. This youthful version of a certain Sherlock Holmes rather surprised the hell out of me. He was all of twenty-one and looking to share an evening of fun and friskiness with a ‘Man of the World’. His long ginger hair was rather attractive displayed.”

“Well, he did show some intelligence there. You are definitely an exceptional ‘Man of the World’. My man of the world.” Sherlock smiled as he deftly finished removing John’s clothing. Sitting him down on the edge of the tub as he hurriedly divested himself of his pajama bottoms.

John is filling the tub, adding some of Sherlock’s posh bath bubbles. He’d been totally blown out of the water when he found out about this little indulgence. Slipping into the rising waters, he sighs in relief. Feeling Sherlock enter behind him, he relaxes into the all encompassing embrace of his consulting lover. 

Sherlock continues his detailed examination of his John. Reading the hills and valleys of his constant companion. Finding no further indications of injury, he intertwines his body with John’s. Placing a loving kiss at the temple of his bad arse doctor/captain.

“So the ginger?” 

“I let him steal a kiss, before I dashed his hopes with the praises of my lover. He was polite and gracious in his admissions of disappointment. How he hoped to find his own John Watson.”

“Ah, there it is. There is only one John Watson. His search will be ever unfulfilled, for I will never be without you, my love.”

“You may be sure of my steadfastness.” John leaned into an offered kiss. 

“I’m as sure of your steadfastness, as I am of your ability to take on three snotters with little more than your bare hands and come away the victor. I shall sing your praises to the vault of heaven. The stars will shine for only you, John.”

“What brings up this poetic fervor?”

“When I think upon your badarseness. It brings out the poetic beast in me.”

“Then, by all means, I think we need to relocate into the bedroom, where I can tame the wicked beast.”

Sherlock lifts them up out of the water as well as reaching for several soft fluff towels. He is an extremely great multi-tasker.

“Onward, dear heart. I can barely wait to feel your strength and divest myself of all civility.”

“I love it when you say such posh words of encouragement.”

They couldn’t get to the bedroom fast enough. John is badarse. Sherlock is very amused, shagged insensate and can’t stop smiling for hours.


End file.
